iMet the Bensons
by bsloths
Summary: Spencer gets dumped, again. Carly and Sam can't figure out the iCarly equipment. And Freddie is forced to help his mother plan the biggest night of her life. So why are they all at a hotel on Saturday night, out of breath and scared to death? Oneshot.


This story idea comes from moirariordan - I used her basic plot, though as usual the story had a mind of its own. So this fic is dedicated to you, Meagan. Enjoy!

--Brandi

Disclaimer: I don't own anything related to iCarly. Though I kind of want to buy Spencer's mini-golf course.

**i****Met the Bensons**

"Stupid Cassandra." Spencer picked up the two kiwi fruits he had intended to snack on, and began gesturing with them. Carly flinched, seeing where this was going, but decided not to comment. "I mean, what does she want from me? She's so demanding. I've never been with a girl that was so self-centered. She made all these decisions, and never once asked for my input. And then _she_ dumps _me_ because I don't pay enough attention to her! She's just so…arrggh!" With that, he squeezed the two kiwis together for emphasis, and Carly had just enough time to duck before the juice splattered.

Spencer glanced down at his shirt, which was now covered in flecks of green. "Oh, man!" he whined. "Ms. Benson is going to be here any minute to drop off Freddie. I better put on a clean shirt." He threw the fruit down on the table and stormed off to his room.

Carly just sighed, and wiped up the spillage. Spencer never got that way about a girl—he must have really liked her. Though Carly couldn't see why; she _had_ been a giant skunk bag. She had a feeling her brother was getting a little desperate…not many women were interested in getting serious with a guy who had so much baggage; i.e. _her_. She felt so guilty sometimes—she knew what her brother had given up in order to raise her. But she was confident he would find someone someday.

"Hey Carls, what's up?" Freddie asked, speeding into the room so quickly that maybe Ms. Benson wouldn't bother entering behind him.

No such luck. Carly gave Freddie a sympathetic smile as Ms. Benson scurried in after her son. "Fredward! Don't forget to tell Carly about your exciting plans!" She put on a tight-lipped grin, and Carly knew that whatever the plans were, they were the opposite of exciting.

Spencer skidded into the room, tucking in his shirt as he went. "Hello there, Ms. B," he greeted.

Ms. Benson looked him up and down, checking to make sure he looked presentable. Spencer dug his fingernail into the piece of skin between his thumb and index finger to keep from making an inappropriate comment.

"Well, I'm off. Don't forget, Freddie!" With that, she rushed out of the apartment. All three of the remaining occupants relaxed their shoulders and heaved sighs of relief.

Freddie rolled his eyes. "She's going to some new pottery class or something. Somehow I managed to get out of joining it, too."

Carly nodded. "That's good. So what's this news?"

Freddie shook his head. "I better wait until Sam gets here. This is kind of important." He saw Carly's worried expression and was quick to reassure her. "Don't worry; it's not really bad news."

"Not _really_ bad, just bad?" Carly asked pointedly.

Freddie shrugged. "Well, it depends."

Spencer came over and patted both Carly and Freddie on the back. "I'm going to go buy some more kiwis," he said, and Carly hid a smile. "Don't burn the house down while I'm gone, 'k?"

"We'll just lightly toast it, how's that?" Carly deadpanned.

"Atta girl!" Spencer grinned, kissed the top of her head, and disappeared out the door.

Sam passed him on the way in and exchanged a quick hello. Then she made her entrance with exaggerated hand motions and some kicky dance steps. "I'm here, the par-tay can start!" she sing-songed.

"Don't ever say 'par-tay' again, please," Carly grumbled, and Sam stuck out her tongue. "Freddie has some news."

Sam brightened. "He's finally getting plastic surgery so his face won't look like something the cat threw up?"

Freddie made a face at her. "Ha ha. Seriously, guys, this is important. It's my mom's turn to host the Benson family reunion. She's having it at the Parker-Nichols Hotel downtown, and I have to spend all this week helping her get ready."

"Ew." Carly shuddered.

"That's lame. Get out of it."

"Sam, you know I can't. This is my _mother_ we're talking about."

Carly sighed. "What about iCarly? We can't cancel it!"

Freddie nodded. "I know; I thought about that, believe me. But you guys will just have to survive without me this week. I'll set everything up today, and all you have to do is press the record button. Sound good?"

Carly and Sam exchanged shrugs. "Eh, we'll figure it out. When's the reunion?" Sam asked.

"Saturday. Taping night."

"You're kidding! So you won't even be around if we have questions?" Carly could feel her heart begin to beat a little faster—sure, she could check her email and go on SplashFace, but she wasn't exactly tech-savvy.

Freddie shook his head. "Sorry, girls. There's nothing I can do. I'm going to go set up the equipment for you, and then that'll probably be the last you see me until the reunion's over."

"At least _something_ good comes out of this," Sam snarked, and Carly elbowed her. Luckily, Freddie was already headed upstairs and didn't hear the comment.

"Sa-am! We're in trouble here. How are we going to do this on our own?"

Sam just brushed her off. "We'll be fine. No worries."

"Yeah, famous last words," Carly grumbled.

FBFBFB

Saturday came around way too quickly for Carly's liking. She and Sam had cooked up a relatively low-tech show, and she thought that if they just rehearsed it once with the camera, they'd be fine. So they met in the loft a few hours before showtime for a dress rehearsal.

Carly nibbled on the corner of her thumbnail. "Okay, you stand over there and pretend to press record, and then pop into frame once I say 'I'm Carly,' okay?" She began pacing back and forth.

Sam grinned. "Calm down, ya worrywart. Everything's gonna be fine."

"Why do you keep saying that??" Carly screeched, and Sam put her fingers in her ears.

"Seriously Carls, you're making me jumpy. Stop it."

"Sorry." Carly took a deep breath. "Okay, ready, five, four, three, two…" Sam pretended to hit the record button on the camera, which Freddie had placed on a tripod.

"Hi, I'm Carly!"

Sam jumped into view next to Carly. "And I'm Sam!"

They said in unison, "And this is iCarly!" Sam pushed the applause button on her remote. _That_ she could handle.

"Tonight, we are sans our technical producer," Carly began.

"Sans is French for 'without.' Cool, huh?" Sam interjected.

They bantered back and forth for a few more seconds. Carly introduced a video submission from a kid who could do jumping jacks while playing the flute.

"And without further ado…" Sam said, going over to push the button so that the video would come up on the screen.

The screen showed nothing but snow instead, and emitted an annoying high-pitched beeping.

"Ahh! Turn it off!" Carly shouted above the noise.

"I'm _trying_!" Sam pounded the keyboard, and finally a new picture emerged on the screen – a picture of Lewbert.

"That's _some_thing," Carly groaned. "But where's Jumping Flute Player?"

Sam pressed another button, and instead of disappearing, the picture of Lewbert became fuzzy, and it refused to go off. "Auggh!" Carly raced over and began pushing buttons as well.

"Okay, stop, stop!" Sam said, after they had punched the keypad in frustration for a good minute. "This isn't helping. Let's just go on to the next segment. Maybe we'll find the video by tonight."

"Good idea. Okay, next, we'd like to introduce a musical number."

Sam grabbed her umbrella, the bucket she was going to stand in, and pulled on a raincoat. "We call it, "Singing in the Rain…Indoors!"

She pressed the applause button again, and Carly grabbed the hose Freddie had rigged to sprinkle water on her from above. "Ready, set, get wet!" she cried, and turned on the hose. Instead of a light drizzle, Sam was pelted with an avalanche of water.

"Turn off the pressure!!" Sam blocked as much of it as she could with her umbrella, but the water was beating down on her, and soon the umbrella was useless. "Turn it off!" She yelled again, while wiping the water out of her eyes.

Meanwhile, Carly had been wrestling with the hose. It seemed to have a mind of its own, as the water pressure caused it to snake all over the place. She jumped up and grabbed the nozzle, but couldn't hold onto it. Both girls were getting soaked, and before Carly could stop it, the water spray had reached the camera.

"Noooo!" Carly cried, diving for the out of control hose again, but it was too late. The tripod was knocked to the ground by the force of the water, and the camera was soon facedown in the puddle on the floor. Carly, in a last ditch effort to restore order, unplugged the computer. The hose went dead, and both she and Sam heaved huge sighs of relief.

"This is bad," Sam whispered, and Carly nodded, almost too upset to speak.

"This is so bad. _So bad_," she agreed when she found her voice.

They quickly grabbed a mop and cleaned up the floor, and set up the camera in front of a fan. Carly had no idea whether or not it was waterproof, but she had to dry it either way.

"Why the heck was the hose controlled by the computer?" Sam gasped, leaning on the mop and wiping her dripping wet hair out of her face. Carly threw her a towel.

"Freddie says it's easiest to have everything in one place, so I guess he figured we'd know where the hose button was if we wanted to use it." Carly toweled herself off, and took the mop from Sam. "That was a disaster. _Why _did we think we could do this without a technical producer?" she griped.

"Because we're smart, strong, independent women?" Sam joked weakly. Carly gave her a withering glare.

"You know what I think?" Carly asked.

"What do you think?"

"I think we need Freddie."

"As much as I hate to admit it—you're right," Sam agreed, with a resigned sigh.

FBFBFB

"Spencer, what are you doing?" Sam asked, poking him. Spencer woke up, startled.

"Cheeseburgers!"

"What?"

"Oh, what? Nothing." He rubbed his eyes.

Carly appeared next to the couch as well. "Spence, it's a Saturday night! Why are you napping?"

"Yeah, what happened to Cass—"

Carly clapped a hand over Sam's mouth. No telling what mention of that name would do to her brother. Best to ignore the issue at the moment. She gestured to the iCarly cart she and Sam had piled with all of the technical equipment, including the still somewhat soggy camera. "We're going to go film Freddie's family reunion as our iCarly broadcast. Wanna join us?"

Spencer rolled off of the couch and up onto his feet. "Sure. Nothing better to do." He stretched, yawned for emphasis, and motioned the girls towards the door. "To the Parker-Nichols, shall we?"

FBFBFB

Carly didn't know what she had been expecting, but when she and Sam wheeled the iCarly cart into the ballroom at the hotel, she couldn't keep from gasping.

On one side of the room, a crowd had gathered around two people engaged in a very fierce fencing match. They were all wearing full fencing gear, and shouting, "Yahoo!" every time either opponent got a hit. Some of the crowd members were dancing, and some were standing on tables and chairs in order to get a better view.

On the other side of the room, a cluster of bespectacled, sweater-vest wearing, arms-crossing, tea-sipping, nervous-looking men and women were huddled in small groups, whispering feverishly.

Sam, Carly, and Spencer looked back and forth in awe at the two completely different sets of partiers, until Freddie came running up out of nowhere. It was obvious he came from the fencing group, however, since he was decked out in their white duds.

"What are you guys doing here?" he hissed, trying to lead them away from the melee.

"We had a little, uh, mishap," Carly explained, firmly standing her ground behind the cart, upon which Freddie was tugging.

Sam giggled as Freddie's face went white. "What does that mean?" he asked weakly, obviously afraid of the answer.

Sam handed him the camera. "It got a little wet…" She kept her mouth shut after that; for once she understood the seriousness of the situation.

"Oh, is that all? It's waterproof," he said with a laugh at his friends' grim faces.

The girls laughed too, completely relieved. But that didn't really solve their problem.

"We still can't do the show. We kind of flooded the studio, and we don't know how to work everything. So…" Carly looked to Sam for help.

Sam jumped into action, pushing Freddie out of the way of the cart and beginning to wheel it towards the party. "So we're going to be filming your reunion. We go live in less than half an hour, Freddie, so we have no choice."

"What? No! No way! You can't film my family!" Freddie took hold of the cart again, and he and Sam engaged in a fierce staredown.

Carly tapped Sam on the shoulder. "Cool it you guys. Hey, wait, where's Spencer?" She looked around, as did the others, but he had disappeared.

"Oh, no! He can't meet my family! It's too embarassing!" Freddie hid his face in his hands. "You guys never should have come here!"

"Relax, Fred-O. We'll behave ourselves." Sam gave him a light punch on the arm, but he continued to hide his face in exasperation.

"You don't understand. It's not you I'm worried about. It's my family." As he finished speaking, a balding man in a sweater vest came up to them.

"Excuse me, Freddie's friends, but I'm going to have to ask you to take your shoes off before entering into the room any further. You don't want to spread any germs, you know." With that, he pulled out a bottle of Purell, squirted both Sam's and Carly's hands before they could protest, and went scampering back to his table.

"You see?" Freddie moaned. Carly and Sam rubbed in the hand sanitizer. It was only then that they noticed the mountain of loafers, tennis shoes, and slippers piled in a corner of the entranceway.

"And I thought _my_ family was full of kooks," Sam giggled.

Freddie hung his head. "It's not funny. That's only the one half. You can see the Fencin' Bensons going crazy over there."

"Maybe Freddie's right, Sam. We shouldn't do the show here," Carly began, but a female voice interrupted her.

"Oh, you _have_ to do your web show here! I'd love to help."

Freddie, Sam, and Carly all spun around to see a girl in her mid-twenties, who had long brown hair and eyes that sparkled mischievously. She was also, incidentally, hanging off of Spencer's arm.

"Hey guys, this is Freddie's cousin Lana," he said excitedly.

"Second cousin," Freddie interjected quietly, but no one heard him.

"She's an artist too! And she went to the same law school I did! But she made it through a whole _month_! And, get this…" Spencer lifted her left pant leg to reveal neon socks that would have made Socko proud.

Carly tried her best to be diplomatic. "That's great. But, uh, we need to get going. We have to find somewhere to do the show in…" she checked her watch, "…fifteen minutes."

Lana stepped over to Carly and patted her back. Carly flinched involuntarily. "Aw, come on, kids, let's do it here. I've never been on a web show before."

Freddie stamped his foot. He hated himself for acting so childishly, but there was no way he was going to film his crazy family for laughs. He'd never hear the end of it at school. "_No_, Lana. It's too crowded in here."

Lana looked over at Spencer with big eyes and a fantastic pout. He didn't stand a chance.

"Freddie, you're running out of time. We kind of _have_ to do it here," Spencer insisted, and Freddie threw up his hands.

"Fine! But we are not telling our audience that these people are related to me!"

FBFBFB

Spencer and Lana headed over to a nearby table, so that they could keep an eye on the filming. Freddie promised them he'd interview Lana sometime during the show, and Spencer knew he'd keep his promise. Right now, he wanted to learn more about this fascinating girl.

"So, Lana, what do you like to do besides sculpt?"

"I love to fence, of course, and I love to go to art museums and just soak up the culture, and I love hula hoops, and I like to surf the net for information about Harry Joiner, and take bubble baths, and…" She finally took a breath. "I'm sorry, am I talking too fast?"

Spencer shook his head. "Nope, you're talking at the perfect speed. So many people talk way too slow. Keep going!"

"Okay, well, I also like renting cheesy horror movies and going to the mall and playing the drums and…"

FBFBFB

"Whose reunion should I say it is, if not yours?" Sam put her face close to the camera, causing Freddie to back up a few steps in disgust.

"I don't know, make something up," he offered.

Carly shrugged. "Freddie, I think it'll be better if we just say it's your family. That way you can introduce everyone to us."

"Fine," he grumbled. He'd probably regret this later, but right now they were out of time to argue. "We're live in five, four, three, two…"

"Hi, I'm Carly!"

"And I'm Sam."

"And we're at the Benson Family Reunion!"

Sam pressed the applause button.

"First up, here's Ms. Benson herself, who organized the whole event. Hi, Freddie's mom," Sam said as she pulled Ms. Benson into the frame. Freddie had ushered her over to their makeshift studio corner after she had finished fencing.

"Hello web viewers," she said in a stilted voice. "Welcome to my party. I hope you enjoy yourself." She bowed, and then hurried away. She never had been much of an actress.

Carly and Sam jumped back into frame.

"Now, let's find us some relatives to interview. It looks like there are two camps here," Sam began. "Nutty and Nuttier."

"_Sam_!" Carly and Freddie said in unison. Freddie was so glad he wasn't in front of the camera; he knew he was blushing up a storm.

"All right, all right, they're not nuts. Over to our left, we have the Fencin' Bensons," Sam continued. Freddie panned over to the raucous crowd; some of them were carrying the current fencing champion around on their shoulders.

"And to our right, we have the Misophobic Bensons."

"That means afraid of germs," Carly explained. Freddie panned over to the MBs, and then to the pile of shoes on the floor behind them.

"So, let's go interview Freddie's great-uncle, Purell Dude, shall we?" Sam said, motioning for the camera to follow her.

FBFBFB

"So this one time, I was sculpting a giant coffee cup, and—"

"And your cell phone fell in," Lana giggled.

Spencer stared at her. "How did you know?"

"The same thing happened to me once. I had to go swimming in there to get it back. And I'll bet you brought your friends in and pretended it was a spa too, right?"

Spencer's mouth dropped open. "You're, like, _me_," he marveled. "Hey, do you know of this dance called The Firecracker?"

FBFBFB

After filming a few minutes of the newest fencing match, Carly and Sam got a hold of the latest winner.

"This is Freddie's uncle, Morty. So, how does it feel to be a champion?" Sam asked, pressing her applause button again.

Morty grinned. "It feels super-duper! I eat losers for breakfast!" He growled and began chewing on his glove, which he had just taken off.

Sam and Carly looked at the camera nervously. "Okay, moving on," Carly suggested.

"Hey, there's my third cousin George," Freddie said, pointing so that his hand was visible in the frame. "Let's go talk to him."

They made their way over to George, and he seemed normal enough.

"George is unique, because his mom is over here on the fencing side, and his dad is over there with the GBs," Freddie explained.

"GBs?" George asked, knitting his brow.

"Never mind. Listen, George, what's it like to have parents that have such different, uh, views of the world?"

George shrugged. "Okay, I guess. Mom was one of the last Fencin' Bensons to travel with the Tingling Brothers, so I'm proud to have that legacy. She taught me everything she knows, and she makes sure I train every day. Dad's not a Benson by birth, but he was accepted into the family quickly enough. As you can see, he has a lot in common with some of my aunts."

He gestured towards the GBs, some of whom looked like they were about to run for the hills. Apparently a spider had just come down from the ceiling. George continued, "Dad's always been the one to make sure I wore my cloud block, and that I signed my shampoo agreements. So he's great too. We're together all the time, because he doesn't want me giving in to any kind of otherworldly temptations. Hi, Dad!" George waved, and his father waved back cheerily, and then immediately turned his attention to the woman next to him, who was trying to catch the contaminating spider with a tissue.

Carly and Sam exchanged horrified glances. They thought Freddie had it bad, with Ms. Benson treating him like a baby. But George was at least thirty, and here he was still smothered by both parents. Ms. Benson seemed sane by comparison.

Freddie thanked his cousin and they moved towards the other side of the room. It was time to interview Lana.

FBFBFB

"And I'm constantly getting my clothes dirty," Lana was saying. "I don't know how it happens!"

"I know! I don't understand it either! It's like, one minute I'm painting something, and the next I can't see my shirt!"

"Who cares? Paint is cool! I'd walk around with paint on all my clothes if I could!"

"I know!"

Spencer and Lana looked up when the iCarly crew approached.

Since Freddie had conducted George's interview, it was Carly's turn. She was really hoping that her brother was having a good time with his, uh, clone. He sure needed it.

"So, Lana, you're a descendant of the Fencin' Bensons, is that correct?"

"Sure am. My parents even met when Grandpa was touring with the Tinglings. Mom was the sword-swallower, and Grandpa introduced them. Isn't that cool, Spencie?" She kept looking to Spencer, as if for approval. He smiled back at her encouragingly.

"Spencie?" Sam mouthed in disbelief at Carly, who ignored her and continued her interview.

"That _is_ cool," Carly answered for her brother. "So are you enjoying your time at the reunion, Lana?"

"Yes, completely. I'm so happy I found my soul mate in Spencie here."

This time it was Spencer's turn to mouth "soul mate?" at Carly. He backed away from Lana a bit.

"Spencie?"

"What?"

"Aren't you listening? We're going to be so happy together."

"Uh, yeah." Spencer shifted in his seat. He kept his face impassive, but his body language was unmistakable. This girl had gone from happy-go-lucky to completely psycho in five seconds flat.

"I'm thinking we'll have the wedding right here. I hope your family isn't too big, because I want to invite the whole Benson clan. And we can both walk down the aisle in paint-splattered fencing costumes!"

Spencer put his foot down at this point. "Wedding? What wedding? We've known each other for half an hour!"

Lana fluttered her eyelashes. "Forty-six minutes, actually."

"Auggh!" Spencer fisted his hair and stood up. "What's wrong with you? We were having such a good time, and you ruined it with your crazy talk!"

"I'm not crazy!" Lana screamed, and practically the whole room turned to look at the commotion.

Sam muttered, "Denial's not just a river in Egypt, lady."

Freddie quickly cut the iCarly feed and replaced it with their 'we're having technical difficulties' logo. "Oh, no. Oh, no," he moaned. He put the camera down and put his head between his knees.

A shout rang out from the coven of GBs, "Who called Lana crazy?"

Spencer blushed and shrank back behind Carly, who didn't do much to hide him, given her height.

When Sam thought back on it later, she couldn't be sure the exact sequence of events, but as far as she remembered, somehow everyone in the room began screaming, "The Bensons are not crazy! The Bensons are not crazy!" Lana took up the chant and ran at Spencer, who grabbed the iCarly cart as a shield and began dragging his sister towards the exit. Sam and Freddie followed closely behind, and they heard the chant growing louder. Sam would never know whether the Bensons had actually followed their group to the door, but as a scare tactic their display had worked – the iCarly crew raced into the hallway and hid in an alcove, where they finally stopped, panting heavily.

"iCarly!" Carly yelped. "We have to get it back online!"

Freddie nodded. "Okay. We better just say something and then end the webcast." He put the show back online.

"Sorry about that, folks. The reunion is now over. Thanks for watching!" Carly pulled Sam next to her. "I'm Carly."

"And I'm Sam."

"And we're outta here!" Then they jumped out of the frame, and Freddie turned off the camera. He slumped against the wall, cradling his head in his hands. Spencer put an arm around his shoulder.

"It's okay, buddy. No one's going to make fun of your family. We all get embarrassed by our relatives sometimes. People will understand."

Freddie looked up. "I know. I guess I do realize that. And some of them are even pretty cool. You know, I'm kind of proud to be a Benson, in a weird way."

Sam snorted, and Carly gave her a dirty look.

"They made us appreciate your mom," Carly offered.

Sam agreed. "Yeah. I mean, your mom is only half as crazy as Lana." Carly glared at her again.

Just then, Ms. Benson came running towards them. "There you are! Are you okay, Freddie?" She rushed to put her arms around her son. "I'm sorry everyone freaked out. But you know how sensitive we are about being called the c-word."

"I know, Mom. It was just a misunderstanding." He pushed her away slightly, but not so far that it hurt her feelings. He was careful about stuff like that.

"I'm sorry we messed up your reunion, Ms. B," Carly said sincerely. Sam nodded in agreement.

"Don't worry about it, girls. I'm just going to go back in there and try to keep the peace. I hope that you'll share your web show comments with me…if there are any positive ones." She rolled her eyes good-naturedly and headed back to the party. "You come back in when you're ready, munchkin," she called to Freddie.

"Wow. Your mom was so nice just now," Sam said in awe.

Freddie sighed. "Yeah. I guess my mom's not always so bad." He straightened up and turned towards the door. "I'm going to go back in there. Maybe one of my cousins will fence with me."

"Sounds good," Carly assured him, and she motioned for Sam and Spencer to grab the cart. "We're going home. Thanks for all of your help tonight. You saved the show from us incompetents." She pointed to herself and Sam, who crossed her eyes and smiled.

"You know you guys can't function without me," he said with a wink. "And don't you forget it!" With that, he waved, and strode back into the party to face his cra—um, unusual family. After all, like it or not, they were _his_.

Sam, Carly, and Spencer headed out of the hotel. Carly watched her brother to see if he seemed upset about Lana, but he was smiling.

"Spence, are you okay? I'm sorry Lana turned out to be a little—"

"Overzealous?" he cut in. "Yeah, it's okay. I'm actually happy it ended like it did. I mean, who wants to date a carbon copy of yourself? That's no fun."

"Wow, you're being surprisingly mature about this," Sam remarked.

Spencer chose to ignore the jibe. "Thanks, Sam. You know, I'm fine. I'm not dead yet. I can still get out there and mix it up with the ladies any time I want."

Carly giggled. "Just no ladies named Benson, or…" she took a chance, "Cassandra."

"Exactly!" Spencer ruffled her hair and began whistling something that sounded like a Plain White T's song.

As Carly strolled out into the night with the iCarly cart, her best friend, and her brother, she couldn't help but think how lucky she was to be a part of her own little family.

They may be a little unconventional, and certainly not as exciting as the Bensons, but they're _hers_.


End file.
